Cooking Misc.: May 2004 Archives
I had the strangest dream this morning, but I know where it came from. Todd and I had just settled into a booth at some restaurant I don't recognize with the newspaper, planning to order breakfast. Some woman, a manager or something approached us and asked us if we'd be more comfortable at one of the tables at the center of the room. Todd said no, he'd like to read the paper and the booths had the best lighting. She insisted, so we gathered our water and coffee cups and followed her. I was kind of annoyed, and so she asked if anything was wrong. I explained, saying the place wasn't busy and I didn't understand why she was arbitrarily moving us. She turned to me and said, "You knew exactly what you were doing when the hostess seated you," suggesting that we had lied to sit at a booth. It was bizarre, because we hadn't. But it was pretty realistic. What is with the whole seating game at restaurants? Is it just snotty hosts and hostesses, or is there some secret math that only people who have worked at restaurants know? At most places we eat regularly, if the place is empty they seat us at one of the comfortable tables. But at Market Cafe, near Todd's office, the place'll be completely empty and they'll try to give us a table in the middle row, where you're constantly bumped by people walking by, instead of a table along the wall. They always let us sit along the wall when we ask, but why do they always try to stick us in the worst seat? (By the way, the waitstaff there is pretty nice otherwise. Maybe there is some "rule"?)
The reason I had the dream is that a coworker had a weird experience at the new Outback in Chelsea. He went in a little more than an hour before closing and requested a booth in the bar, but the hostess said she could only give him a table, so he accepted. But he got increasingly annoyed when he realized, while some booths were occupied, there were a handful empty. He had wanted a booth, with better lighting, so he could read. So close to closing, why couldn't the hostess accommodate his request? She even stared blankly at him, offering no help at all, when he complained.
Yes I did. Todd was at class last night, so I had a bowl of oatmeal for dinner. I always used to prefer very dry oatmeal, with a rougher texture. I usually use about half the liquid the box calls for (a 1 to 1 liquid/oats ratio instead of 2 to 1). But it seems as though a lot of my food preferences are changing lately, and I even like my oatmeal a little more liquidy these days. The bowl I had last night was so creamy and satisfying.
I started to bring 1 cup of milk to a boil in a small saucepan, but then I got worried the milk would scald so I added the 1/2 cup oats. Brought that to a boil and let it bubble 5 minutes, stirring the whole time. Then I added some brown sugar, cinnamon and blueberries. Let the heat of the oatmeal kind of cook the berries until they were warm and some of them burst, then ate.
Yes I did. Todd was at class last night, so I had a bowl of oatmeal for dinner. I always used to prefer very dry oatmeal, with a rougher texture. I usually use about half the liquid the box calls for (a 1 to 1 liquid/oats ratio instead of 2 to 1). But it seems as though a lot of my food preferences are changing lately, and I even like my oatmeal a little more liquidy these days. The bowl I had last night was so creamy and satisfying.
I started to bring 1 cup of milk to a boil in a small saucepan, but then I got worried the milk would scald so I added the 1/2 cup oats. Brought that to a boil and let it bubble 5 minutes, stirring the whole time. Then I added some brown sugar, cinnamon and blueberries. Let the heat of the oatmeal kind of cook the berries until they were warm and some of them burst, then ate.
I bought a quarter of a watermelon the other day, and have thoroughly enjoyed having it all to myself because Todd does not like watermelon (which is so improbable to me that I actually bothered to ask him why - futile). It reminded me, though, of a salad someone made for supper club. I remember being quite skeptical as she started pulling together the two main ingredients: watermelon and feta. But it was really wonderful, the salty feta contrasting beautifully with the sweet, wet watermelon. I have a theory that in one bite it creates and quenches a thirst in you. Nigella Lawson has a recipe in Forever Summer that has a bunch of other stuff: olives, parsley, red onion, lime, mint, pepper. I can't remember what Sam's had, but I do think tossing together a little lime juice, some cubed or crumbled feta and some chunks of watermelon would be yummy. Maybe I'd add a little ground cayenne or chipotle for heat, although that may be going too far.
I bought a quarter of a watermelon the other day, and have thoroughly enjoyed having it all to myself because Todd does not like watermelon (which is so improbable to me that I actually bothered to ask him why - futile). It reminded me, though, of a salad someone made for supper club. I remember being quite skeptical as she started pulling together the two main ingredients: watermelon and feta. But it was really wonderful, the salty feta contrasting beautifully with the sweet, wet watermelon. I have a theory that in one bite it creates and quenches a thirst in you. Nigella Lawson has a recipe in Forever Summer that has a bunch of other stuff: olives, parsley, red onion, lime, mint, pepper. I can't remember what Sam's had, but I do think tossing together a little lime juice, some cubed or crumbled feta and some chunks of watermelon would be yummy. Maybe I'd add a little ground cayenne or chipotle for heat, although that may be going too far.
This may strike everyone reading this blog as remarkably obvious, but every now and again, I'm struck by how easy cooking can be. I'm not talking fancy cooking here, I'm talking about one step up from takeout. And that's an important step.
Last night I was faced with a mixed bag of ingredients in the fridge and neither Kim or I had much inclination to cook. But Kim had thought ahead and planned quick fajitas using some leftover chicken from Boston Market (yes, we've been eating more takeout of late.) Within a few minutes she'd chopped green peppers and onions and I sautéed them with some chipotle powder, chili powder and cumin plus a little salt and black pepper. A couple of minutes on low heat and the chicken Kim shredded was ready to go in. Flour tortillas wrapped in aluminum foil go in the oven on low heat. A few more minutes and we're chowing down on chicken/onion/peppers wrapped in a soft, warm tortilla.
It all seems so easy since at I write this I realize all I did was shake the skillet a few times. Now, coming up with the menu - that's hard. I leave that to Kim.
